


he didnt even give me back my axe

by juliebee



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Family Dynamics, LMAO, One Shot, absolutely no shipping ew, until.... u know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:29:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28588818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juliebee/pseuds/juliebee
Summary: when philza watched both of his boys leave for the festival, he wasn't expecting only one to come back broken.nothing bad ever happens at a festival.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 62





	he didnt even give me back my axe

**Author's Note:**

> i thought i was done writing fanfiction for this dumbass minecraft server but here we are. let me know what you think

“You’re sure you’re alright staying back here alone?” Techno asks, cocking an eyebrow at Phil. The wind rustles his cape, blue like the one Techno no longer wears. “You know you’re always welcome to come with.”

Phil shakes his head, nodding to the empty field beside Techno’s cottage where he’s already cleared off a plot of land. He knows the farm he intends to build isn’t at all necessary when they are already so rich with resources, but he needs something to occupy his time while he waits. “I’m sure. I’m not invited, anyway.”

“Neither are we, technically,” Tommy points out. He pulls out an invisibility potion from his pocket, turning it over in his hands. The pale purple liquid catches the afternoon sun’s light, living up to its name and becoming practically translucent. “But we have a way around that.”

“I could make you your own,” Techno adds. Something in his voice suggests that he wouldn’t mind having to do so. “It’d only take a second.”

“Please. You two go. I’ll see you both later, alright? And I’ll have a new farm up for us.” Phil smiles kindly, though the way that he meets Techno’s eyes is anything but warm. It’s a plea, reiterating his words—  _ I’ll see you both later.  _

Techno doesn’t return his old friend’s grin. “If you insist,” he replies dejectedly.

Phil’s grin fades. Somebody has to stay back at Techno’s cottage— it might as well be him. He didn’t have the same level of personal investment as the other two. 

Techno sighs, then turns to his companion. They’re both dressed in Techno’s strongest enchanted armor, though Tommy has forgone the matching helmet in place of the turtle shell cap Techno gave him as a present, green tinged with the purple glow of enchantments.

It doesn’t offer the same protection, but the sentiment is enough to make up for it— a clear reminder that Tommy and Techno are friends, working together under a common goal. Getting Tommy’s discs back and taking down the country that wronged them both, the country that wronged Phil, the country that ostracized all three of them. Forced them into isolation.

Techno and Tommy have had their differences. They’ve fought on opposite sides of battle, held arrows to each other’s heads, clashed swords more than once. Even when Techno first allowed Tommy to live beneath his house, he still wasn’t sure about the kid and his constant shouting, his hot headedness, and his undying commitment to those who had hurt him in the past.

But that was all behind them. One thing stood in front of them, now: the second Dream SMP Festival, the gathering of all of the civilians. When Tommy’s discs— and his enemies— would all be in one place.

“You ready, then?” Techno says to Tommy. “There’s no backing out now.”

“I’m more than ready,” Tommy replies. Though he’s normally full of energy, he seems to be extra lively today, bouncing on the balls of his feet, hands clenched tightly into fists.

“That’s what I like to hear.” Techno, by comparison, is his normal apathetic self, his monotonous voice a clear contrast against Tommy’s. 

“Let me just grab my sword,” Tommy says, “and then we can get going.”

As he turns, Techno lays a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

“Actually,” he begins, “I have something for you.”

At first, Phil watches Tommy knit his eyebrows together in confusion, wondering what his friend could possibly mean. Techno already made him the very sword he was going back to get— it wasn’t nearly as good as any of his weapons, but he would certainly take what he could get after everything else he owned was burned.

“You already gave me a set of potions,” he says, turning around suspiciously “And I’ve got my bow, and plenty of gapples. I just need to get my sword-”

“No, no.” Techno isn’t one for sentimentalism— the turtle shell cap was enough for an entire year, honestly— but he wants to solidify their alliance before heading off into the lions’ den that was the Festival. He catches Phil’s approving gaze, his slight nod in encouragement.

“I know I just got this back, and I said yesterday that you weren’t ‘worthy,’ but… I’ve changed my mind.” Techno reaches up to grasp the handle of the axe strapped to his back, the worn wood familiar in his hand as he pulls it out of its holster. “I want you to have the Axe of Peace for today.”

Tommy’s at a loss for words, for once, his eyes round as Techno holds out the glowing netherite weapon. He just stares at it, open-mouthed, all thoughts of his sword long forgotten. It pales in comparison to the Axe of Peace— the famed weapon of Technoblade, its ironic name feared by anyone unlucky enough to come across it.

“Take it,” Techno says, sounding somewhat irritated at the hesitation. “Don’t make me change my mind again.”

Tommy reaches for it tentatively, his hand curling around the handle. He’s used the Axe before, but never with Techno’s permission— it seems to be heavier now, more powerful. Thrumming with the energy of all of its enchantments, the blood that it’s spilled in the name of peace. Polished clean, though nobody believed it’d stay that way for long.

“Thank you,” he breathes, turning it over in his hands.

“I’ll make you proud, Techno.”

“You… already have,” Techno replies, the words sounding foreign on his lips. His face flushes, and he catches Phil’s gaze again, watching the two of them with fatherly affection. “Let’s get going, then. We have a festival to ruin.”

“That’s right.” The two of them share a rare smile, the sort only friends going into battle together could manage. 

Tommy straps the axe onto his back the same way Techno did, then adjusts the buckle to his turtle shell cap. 

“Let’s get back my discs!”

“You two have fun,” Phil calls to their backs as they walk away, though he’s sure they’re too far away to hear him now. The sun is blinding against the snow covered banks, and he squints as they move farther and farther away, merely dots on the horizon.

“Please come back to me,” he adds when he can no longer see them, merely a whisper that’s carried off in the wind.

He’s already lost one of his boys. To see two of them going off into what was certainly an incredibly dangerous situation, invisibility potions their only cover against the country that wanted them dead… it was enough to make his stomach turn.

All he could do now was wait. Wait and hope that all of Techno’s preparation had been enough, that Tommy’s spirit would prevail over his reservations, that the people of L’Manberg would take mercy on them should something bad happen—

No. There was no point even thinking about that. They were going to return.

They had to.

* * *

Phil builds his farm, trying to pay careful attention to every last detail— the way that the water flows, the type of the wood that makes the structure. But he can’t keep his mind off of his boys as the sun dips further and further into the sky, temperature quickly dropping in their arctic wasteland of a home.

He can’t help himself from worrying. He can't help the way that his ears prick up at every noise, the way his head turns any time he so much as  _ thinks  _ he sees something approaching.

Soon, the farm is done, the sun gone. The dark, moonless sky taunts him.

His heart wrenches. They’d never spend the night in L’Manberg— that was never part of the plan. They didn’t have enough invisibility for that.

Their beds were here. Their homes were here. With him.

Though it’s cold, Phil sits on the stairs to Techno’s cottage, wrapped in his cape. Blue, a reminder of the alliance he has with Techno and Tommy.

His eyes are beginning to droop closed when suddenly he spots something far in the distance, what looks like the glow of a single torch in the inky blackness of the night. He bolts to his feet before he knows what he’s doing and rushes to meet them, realizing that, as he gets closer and closer, there’s only one light— only one figure illuminated by its yellow flame.

It’s Techno, torch in one hand, turtle shell helmet in another.

“Phil,” he says, voice hoarse, once Phil has caught up with him.

“Tommy—?”

“He’s alive.” The words seem to hurt Techno to say. He can’t quite meet Phil’s eyes.

“Then where is he?”

Phil lays a hand on Techno’s forearm, trying in vain to get him to look at him. He takes the torch and holds it up to his face, illuminating the most pained expression he’s ever seen on his normally stoic friend’s countenance.

“Why do you have his helmet?” Phil breathes. “Why did he take it off?”

Techno doesn’t respond, just shrugs Phil’s hand off of him and begins to walk in the direction of his cottage.

“Techno,” Phil says to his back. “Why did you come back alone?”

“Tommy found a new home,” Techno replies acridly.

“What on earth are you talking about?”

Phil hurries to catch up with Techno, the latter’s strides so much longer with his added height. His cape is in tatters, and though it’s red, Phil can’t help but notice the splotches of a darker crimson that weren’t there before.

“He’s not coming back,” Techno mumbles. He’s turning over the turtle shell in his hands, running his fingers over the grooves. “He’s staying with them.”

“Who?”

Techno shivers, and Phil realize then how hard of a day it must have been for him— a walk from L’Manberg and back is no small feat, nevermind the fighting he must have been subjected to, the emotional turmoil that seems to pain him so.

“Let’s get inside,” he says before Techno can respond. “We can talk once you’re warm. I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

“I’m fine.”

“I know you are. But I’m worried.” Phil knows Techno well enough at this point to recognize that he’d never admit to being injured, or tired, or hungry, even when it’s clear as day on his features and the hunch to his normally impeccable posture. “I’ve done nothing but worry.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

They reach Techno’s front door, finally, and Phil holds it open for him with a weak smile.

Techno doesn’t return it as he heads inside, throwing the helmet onto the nearest crafting bench without a second look. He’s up the ladder that leads to his room without another word, and Phil decides to leave him alone for now. He’d talk when he was ready.

Phil didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry.

His boys were alive, but now they were on two different sides.

Everything was going so right earlier. What could have gone wrong? What could have possibly changed Tommy’s mind?

_ “All I ever wanted was to be your friend,” _ he’d said to Techno just the day before, when they were plotting their return to the festival. Going over every detail with such excitement.

_ “Well, you are,”  _ Techno had replied gruffly.

Phil had been thrilled to see them finally getting along. If only he’d known.

The sounds of heavy things clattering to the ground, of chests opening and slamming shut echos through their tiny cottage. 

So very rarely does Techno open himself up to people the way that he did to Tommy. 

And now that that rare trust had been broken, Phil worried that it would never happen again. 

* * *

Techno tears into his rabbit stew without a word. Phil sits across from him, having eaten hours ago, appraising him for any injuries his friend stubbornly refuses to treat. He finds none— of course the blood on his cape is not his own.

He waits for Techno to say something first. He’d been silent ever since they got back to the cottage, a faraway look in his eyes telling Phil that his mind was anywhere but.

He was normally not a man of many words, but the pregnant silence was killing Phil. Tommy was clearly not on their side anymore, but Phil still worried for him— what had happened to him? Did he see Dream? Was he threatened? Did he get back his discs and abandon everything he and Techno had been fighting for?

“I’m sorry,” Techno finally says quietly, interrupting Phil’s worries. Phil snaps out of his spiraling and turns to the boy in front of him, following his eyes to the empty chair beside them. Their table was small, but with only two place settings, it felt far too big.

“I already told you not to be.”

“I should have fought harder. Convinced him.” Techno’s hand clenches into a fist atop the table. “He left me, Phil. He left us. For the very people that exiled him.”

“Why?”

“After everything they did to him, he still loves L’Manberg. He still loves Tubbo.”

“Techno, there’s nothing you could’ve done to stop that.” Phil lays his hand atop Techno’s. “You gave him a home. You gave him items. You gave him your  _ axe,  _ for god’s sake.”

“It just doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make any sense.”

Phil’s heart aches at the desperation in Techno’s voice. He always seems to know everything, be prepared for everything— Tommy must have completely blindsided him. Phil has never seen Techno at such a loss for what to do.

“I know it doesn’t. Tommy’s young. His heart always takes precedence over his mind.”

“No, Phil. You don’t get it. You don’t understand what happened today.” Techno jerks his hand out from under Phil’s, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “The community house was blown up. We don’t know who did it, but Dream blamed Tommy.”

“He  _ was  _ talking about doing that yesterday,” Phil says, though he doesn’t recall Tommy leaving at all during the night. “And it does seem like the sort of thing he’d do.”

“But he didn’t. I don’t know who did, but it wasn’t him.” Techno finally looks up at Phil, his eyes round and  _ scared.  _ Phil has never seen those eyes ook like that before— so utterly at a loss. “He told me he didn’t. He wouldn’t lie to me, Phil. He didn’t lie. He didn’t do it.”

“I believe you.”

“But they didn’t!”

The raise in Techno’s voice startles Phil. He’s been so quiet all night— the way he practically shouts the words makes him flinch.

“They all think he did this! They don’t even trust him— they exiled him, they hate him! But he still wants them over me!”

“Hey,” Phil says, trying to stop Techno before he goes too far. But he’s already started, and he doesn’t seem to want to slow down.

“They were the ones who hurt him! After everything they did to me— after everything they did to you, Phil! He still loves them!”

“Techno-”

“We’re his family!”

The words ring out through the empty cottage, filled with more emotion than Phil’s ever heard from his friend.

“He didn’t even give me back my axe,” he whispers after a few more beats of silence, head in his hands.

Phil, at a loss for words, gets to his feet and gathers Techno into his arms.

He doesn’t return the embrace, he never does. But he leans into Phil with a certain dejection so not befitting to his regular persona.

Phil had thought that Techno’s initial pain was at Tommy’s ideological betrayal, but now he sees that it’s so much more. It’s personal— a direct attack on the thing Techno left the least guarded.

His heart.

Phil lost one of his boys.

And Techno lost a friend.

  
  
  



End file.
